Look Through My Window
by isabella2004
Summary: Sam Tyler disappeared in 1980, presumed dead. Alex Drake and Gene Hunt found each other in 1981, very much alive. Both their worlds collide in 1982 with devastating consequences for everyone. Finale of Dedicated To The One I Love and And The Sky Is Grey.
1. Chapter 1

**Author Note: Hello again everyone! It's good to be back! This story is the third in the trilogy that started with _Dedicated to the One I Love _and _And The Sky Is Grey. _You might want to read those before you attempt this story so that it makes more sense!!**

**As usual, I don't own any of the characters from either LOM or A2A, they are merely people I play with my fantasies (meow!) I hope you'll enjoy this story and leave a review.**

**You may remember that at the end of _And The Sky Is Grey_ Meg disappeared for good, Danny came to live with Gene and Sam met Alex in the hospital and revealed that he was undercover. This story picks up from there.....**

**Somewhere in England – July 1982**

He sat at the window, watching the rain falling outside, watching as it streaked the glass and blurred his vision of the outside world. Every so often it would clear slightly and he would see the world in front of him, only for it to be obscured seconds later by a fresh wave of water.

He felt as though he had been sitting there for days, weeks even. Holed up in this room like a prisoner. Though he could technically leave any time he wanted, he felt as though he was trapped. Trapped by a decision he had made two years ago and was, every day, living to regret.

Sighing, he turned away from the window and surveyed the room around him. It was the smallest bedsit he had ever seen, even smaller than the one he had had in Manchester. The decor wasn't much better either. Bad eighties, which he knew would be revived in about twenty five years time. He sat down on the chintz bedspread and stared at the phone, willing it to ring. They had said five o'clock and it was now ten after.

For a brief moment, he thought about how easy it would be to phone his wife and tell her he was coming home. Tell her that he was jacking it in, that he had made a mistake and that he couldn't see it through to the end after all. He knew she would be relieved, but worried about the consequences. He ached to see her again though, to hold her in his arms and smell her skin and her hair. And his children. He ached to see his children, no doubt much changed in the time that had passed. But he also knew, that contacting her out with the prearranged times would only alarm her and, possibly put her in danger if they were listening in. He was sure now that they were.

The phone rang shrilly, making him jump. He stared at it for a long moment before getting up, crossing the room and lifting the receiver.

"Hello?"

"Oh good, you're there."

"I said I would be," he replied, trying to keep his voice steady.

"So you did. Have you got it?"

He fingered the sheet of paper lying on the table. "Yes."

"Good," the voice sounded satisfied. "So, you know where and when?" He nodded, despite the fact the caller couldn't see him. "You still there?"

"Yes, sorry."

"You'd better not be thinking about backing out now," the voice said, slightly menacing in tone now, "We've gone too far now."

"I know," he replied honestly.

"Fine. I'll see you there." He was left with the dial tone in his ear.

Slowly, he replaced the receiver and turned to lift his leather jacket from where it had been slung casually over the chair. Putting it on, he eyed himself in the mirror, took a deep breath and opened the door.

**Costa Brava – July 1982**

"Ole! Ole! Ole!"

"Bloody 'ell does 'e never stop?"

"Ole! Ole! Ole!"

"Danny!" Gene Hunt looked up from where he was trying unsuccessfully to read a newspaper in the departure lounge and glared at his son who was standing next to the row of seats offering Spanish greetings to all and sundry.

"What?" he turned wide eyes on his father.

"Give it a rest."

Danny immediately looked cowed. "Sorry." He sat down on one of the seats and started to swing his legs aimlessly, bumping his heels against the steel frame, causing them to shake with every movement. "how much longer?"

"I don't know," Gene replied, focusing on the sports section.

"Four hours is _forever!_"

"Tell me about it," he mumbled.

"Dad?"

"What?"

"Can I get some money?"

Gene eyed him suspiciously, "What for?"

"Crisps. Pleeeeaaase?" he begged, "Por favor?"

"Oh Christ, not more Spanish!" Gene fumbled in his pockets and pulled out a fiver. He held it out to Danny who grabbed it eagerly. "I'd better get four pound ninety change out of that!" he called out as Danny dashed off in the direction of the shops, almost barging into Alex Drake in the process.

She watched as he darted across the large lounge and then turned back to where Gene was waiting. "Still no more news?" she asked, sitting down beside him.

"Nope," he replied. "Tell you something though."

"What's that?"

"You're sitting next to 'im on the plane 'ome. I've 'ad it up to 'ere with bleeding Spanish."

Alex laughed, "You should be glad that he took an interest. Maybe he'll buck the trend of the stereotypical English abroad."

"Hmph." Gene turned back to his paper.

Alex ran a hand through her hair and looked around the lounge at the different families crowded there, waiting for the delayed 3.30pm flight to London. The sun was streaming in through the windows and she could see the concrete sizzling outside. It had been a fantastic holiday, one she had never thought she would be able to persuade Gene to take.

"Caravan in Bognor suits me," he had declared when she had suggested it.

"Oh come on," she had argued, "don't you want to show Danny some culture?"

"'e can see plenty of culture in Bognor."

She had pleaded and cajoled and eventually he had given in and they had booked the week's break in the Costa Brava. Seven whole days of lying baking in the sun, swimming in the sea and, most importantly, watching the ever growing bond between Gene and his son. Time had flown since the strange events of 1981. The search for serial killer Derek Wallace, Alex's kidnap, the strange reappearance of Meg Ryan, Danny's mother, her battling Death to save Gene's life and then, tragically, Danny's grandfather dying suddenly throwing Danny into the full time care of his father. She had watched as Gene had gone from unsure and wary to a complete natural. When she saw how Danny had grown and progressed, especially now he had reached the grand old age of eight, she knew that it was all down to Gene.

"Glad you came Bolly," Gene said suddenly, as though reading her thoughts.

"It was my idea if you remember," she reminded him.

"I know that, but you still could 'ave pulled out and left us to it," he looked at her gratefully, "You've been brilliant this week."

"So have you," she replied, resting her head on his shoulder, "You're so good with him."

"Except when 'e's driving me mad with bloody Spanish. Oh Lord, 'ere 'e comes." Right on cue, Danny came tearing back over to them. "Well," Gene asked, "where's me change?" He dutifully handed over the money. "Good lad."

"How much longer?" Danny asked again.

"Ask your moth..." Gene caught himself. "Ask Alex."

Alex looked at him sympathetically before turning back to Danny who was looking at her expectantly. "Why don't you go and check the board?" Without further prompting, Danny was off again. She waited until he was out of earshot. "Are you all right?"

"Fine," he replied, "sorry about that."

"You don't have to apologise."

"So used to 'aving you around," he offered by way of explanation. "Anyone looking at us would think you were 'is mother."

"I told you before that I'll be there for him," she said. "It's the next best thing surely?"

"Course it is," he smiled at her, "You know, Alex, it's been a while now and...well...maybe we should think about taking the next step."

She turned innocent eyes on him, "The next step?"

"Yeah you know..." he was drowned out by the sudden wail of the tannoy.

" Señoras y señores. Número de vuelo 4533 a Londres es ahora embarcar en puerta número siete. Ladies and gentlemen. Flight number 4533 to London is now boarding at gate number seven."

"We're going! We're going! We're going!" Danny shouted as he rushed back over to pick up his small bag. "We're going! We're going! We're going!"

"Danny!" Gene warned again.

Alex smiled and dropped a kiss on his cheek. "At least it's not Spanish."

**London – July 1982**

"Look who's back again," Chris Skelton observed as he stood at the main entrance of Fenchurch East police station watching a skinny middle-aged man quickly approach him waving a notepad.

Ray Carling sidled up beside him, "Not Nosy Norman." He groaned. "I'm sick of the sight of 'is mug."

"DS Carling!" the man called out as he approached, "Just the person!"

"Not now Norman, eh?" Ray said turning his back on the visitor, "I've got work to do."

"Looks more like you're having a fag," Norman pointed out, jabbing at Ray with his pen. He smiled to show yellowing teeth from too many cigarettes and too much coffee. "Now I know the officers of Fenchurch East are always more than willing to talk to the gentlemen of the press, especially the Daily Bugle."

"I wipe my arse with the Bugle," Chris said helpfully. Ray and Norman stared at him. "Well, once..."

"There isn't exactly much to be talking about," Ray said.

"Now we both know that's not true," Norman said, licking the tip of his pen and turning over a fresh sheet in his pad. "What about Joe Dempster?"

"'ere we go..." Ray grumbled.

"Word has it he's planning to sue the Met for his treatment in custody last month." Norman cocked his head on one side. "He was particularly verbose about DCI Gene Hunt."

"No comment," Ray said.

"No...comment..." Norman echoed, making a show of writing it down. "What about the fact that Dempster father, a notorious figure in town, threatened to kick...what was it...seven shades of shit out of DCI Hunt."

"No comment," Ray said again.

"Obstructive as well as everything else," Norman shook his head as he scribbled. "Very bad form."

"Come on Chris, let's go," Ray said, gesturing to the door.

"Wait, wait, wait!" Norman called out, causing them to pause. "Before you go, answer me this. Is the Met aware of the armed blag which is due to take place next Saturday at Royal Bank?"

Ray and Chris whipped around. "What blag?" the latter asked.

"Aha!" Norman danced from foot to foot, "So you don't know?"

"I swear to God..." Ray hopped down a few steps.

"Sources! Sources!" Norman held up his hands in mock protest. "They tell me there's going to be a blag at the Royal Bank on Saturday morning when the security van comes to collect that week's reserve."

"Who says?" Chris asked.

"Sources," Norman replied as though he was simple.

"We got that much," Ray said, "who are these 'sources'?"

"Freedom of the press!" Norman exclaimed. "Privacy of sources! You don't actually expect me to give that up, do you?" He smiled and turned away. "Just thought I would do my civic duty and give you the heads up." With a hearty wave, he loped back towards his car.

Chris turned to Ray. "What should we do? The Guv'll go mental if 'e comes back to 'ear this and we don't know what's 'appening."

"I know," Ray chewed on his lip. "We need to get all the usual suspects in and try to figure this out before they get back."

"It's exciting, innit?" Chris said, excitement flashing across his face. "An armed blag!"

Ray looked at him like he was an idiot, "You really are bloody mental."

****

"Hi."

"Hi!" her voice was warm, excited, pleased to hear from him. He closed his eyes at the sound of her familiar tones. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah," he replied quietly. "You?"

"I'm ok," she said, though he could hear the sadness in her voice.

"The kids?"

"They're fine. They miss you."

He closed his eyes and leaned his head against the side of the phone box. "I miss them too." He willed away the tears at the corners of his eyes. "I miss you."

"I miss you too," she said. "When...?"

"Soon."

"But when?" she persisted.

"I don't know," he said, "soon."

He heard her sigh heavily. "It's too much...being without you...it's like..." she paused. "I don't how much longer I can stand it."

"Me neither," he whispered. "But I promise you I'll be home soon." He turned as headlights swept over the phone box, bathing him in light. "I'd best go."

"Ok," she said sorrowfully. "I love you Sam."

He closed his eyes again and imagined her face, her sweet face, and her breath on his cheek. "I love you too Annie. I love you too.

**Bit short to begin with but more to come!!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Somewhere over the UK – July 1982**

"What are you thinking about?"

Gene looked over, surprised at the sound of Alex's voice. Moments earlier she had been sleeping peacefully, her head lolling to one side, almost touching his shoulder. Turning his own head to face her, he could smell the lemons in her hair mingled with the salt of sea water, the remnant of that morning's last dip in the ocean before leaving the hotel to head for the airport. "Nothing," he replied.

"It must be something," she persisted.

"Just not looking forward to going 'ome."

"Why?"

"Bloody 'ell Bolly, you don't let things lie, do you?" He looked away, unsure of how to tell her how he really felt. After asking her to marry him last year, he had assumed that it would all happen fairly quickly and yet, it hadn't. They hadn't really talked about it and had made no real plans. Alex had moved in, but that had been more on the pretext of her helping him with Danny than any real cementing of their relationship. In all honesty, he didn't know how to move things on, but was desperate to do so. "Just been thinking that…maybe…" he looked away, "maybe it's time to move on."

"Do you feel that you're ready now?" she asked.

"Ready for what?" he looked back at her.

"Marriage."

"I asked you last year," he replied defensively. "You're the one who 'asn't mentioned it since."

"Neither have you," she replied. "After I moved in, I assumed you would but you didn't. I thought that maybe you had changed your mind."

"I'm 'ardly going to ask you to marry me and then change me mind, am I?"

"I don't know, Gene," she said evenly. "I wouldn't put it past you."

"Thanks very bloody much," he leaned forward and looked past her to where Danny was sitting staring out of the window listening to his headphones.

"I know it's difficult for you," Alex said, "but you said that you were ready to move on. Ready to put her behind you. Behind us."

He looked at her sharply, "This 'as nothing to do with Meg."

"Doesn't it?"

"I was never married to 'er."

"No, but you wanted to be and she kept saying no. Are you worried that's what I'm going to do?"

"Is it?" he glanced at her out of the corner of his eye.

"Of course not," she smiled, leaning over and kissing his cheek. "There is nothing that I want more than to be your wife and Danny's stepmother. But only if you want it too."

"Course I do."

"Well then…" she laced her fingers through his and rested her head on his shoulder. "Then I think we should get on with it as soon as possible, don't you?"

They sat in silence as the Captain's voice came over the tannoy announcing that they would shortly be arriving in London, Gene fighting the lump in his throat. He was glad that she had said it, so very glad, and he wouldn't waste any more time. As soon as they got back, he would start organising it. Or rather, help Alex to organise it. Or rather, let her organise it and chip in with his opinion every now and then. After all, this sort of thing was a woman's job.

Danny began wrapping up his headphones and put them back into the seat pocket in front of him. "When are we going to land?" he asked.

"Not long now," Alex replied, "and then we'll be home. Where I intend to give you a very large, very powerful orgasm," she added quietly so only Gene could hear.

"Then you'll be expecting one in return," he mumbled in response.

"Well I must say your orgasms are the best," she giggled.

"Daddy?" Danny unclipped his seatbelt and leaned over Alex.

"What?" Gene asked, somewhat impatiently.

"What's an orgasm?"

**Norwich – July 1982**

"Mum, 'e's taken all the chips!"

"I 'ave not!"

"You 'ave so!"

"'Ave not!"

"'AVE SO!"

"Stop it!" Annie Tyler cried, thumping the table with one hand, causing both her children to lapse into silence. "For 'eaven's sake!" She looked at their plates. "Does every meal 'ave to descend into feeding time at the zoo? David, give some of those chips to your brother."

"But why?" her eight year old son complained.

"Because I said so." She watched as, with great dissatisfaction, he lifted some of the chips on his plate and dumped them unceremoniously on his brother's. "Thank you, now sit down and eat properly." A brief silence descended over the table as the family ate and Annie cursed herself for her quick temper. "Did you 'ave a nice time with Grandma and Grandpa today then?"

"Yes," David replied, his mouth full of chips. "But Michael got into trouble for shouting at Tommy."

"Why did you shout at Tommy?" Annie asked her six year old, thinking of the chubby boy who lived next door to her parents.

"Because 'e said that Daddy was dead."

Her son's words brought Annie up sharply. "What?"

"'e said that Daddy was dead," Michael repeatedly, innocently trying to fit an oversized chip into his mouth.

"And what did you say?"

"He told 'im 'e was a stupid, fat pig," David giggled.

"You do know that Daddy isn't dead, don't you?" she asked, ignoring the cruel words. "You know that he's just gone away for a while and that he'll be back. You both know that, don't you?" They both looked at her, innocently wide-eyed. "Don't you?"

"When _is _Daddy coming back?" Michael asked.

She reached over and patted both their arms. "Soon, I hope. Very soon." Later, when both children were in bed, she sat in the living room, the television blaring incomprehensibly in the corner, replaying the last conversation she had had with him over and over in her head. The worry and fear she lived with every day had increased tenfold over the last few weeks. It was coming to the end now, or so the implication was. It should all be over soon, at least that was what she read into Sam's cryptic words. The strange thing was, although she should feel a sense of relief that he would soon be back with her, the nagging thought at the back of her mind was _what next?_

**London – July 1982**

It was late by the time the plane had eventually landed and even later when the baggage carousel had started working and they had been able to retrieve their luggage, later still when they had gotten a taxi and so late by the time they arrived back at the house that Danny had fallen asleep in the backseat. Alex lifted him up into her arms and carried him up the path to the front door, juggling the keys in one hand. She hoisted Danny further up into her arms and attempted to slide the key into the lock, but as she pressed the metal in and made to turn it, the door swung open of its own accord.

Alex froze. "Gene?" She turned to see him huffing and puffing his way towards her, dragging the suitcases behind him.

"Don't worry about me, Bolls, I'll bring your fifty pairs of shoes." He dropped them at her feet. "What's up?"

"The door was unlocked," she whispered.

"What?" he moved past her and pushed it so that it swung open wider. "Wait 'ere."

"Be careful!" she warned, holding Danny closer to her.

Gene pushed the door all the way open and stepped into the hallway. Reaching for the light switch, he flicked it, expecting the hall to become bathed in light, but nothing happened. "Me bloody gun's upstairs," he murmured.

"Maybe we should call for backup?" Alex suggested.

"I'm not standing outside me own 'ouse too scared to go in," he replied stubbornly. He stepped forwards further into the house and, feeling along the wall, connected with the hall table. Opening the drawer, he pulled out a small torch and switched it on. Lighting a path in front of him, he moved down the hallway towards the living room. Opening the door, he cast the light around the room, finding it empty.

"Anything?" Alex whispered as he came out.

"No." Without hesitating, he continued on down to the kitchen, again finding no sign of any disturbance. Indeed, there was nothing in the downstairs at all that indicated that anyone had been inside the house. "I'm going to look upstairs," he told her.

"I'm coming with you," Alex stepped inside the door, making to follow him.

"No you're bloody not!" he whispered fiercely. "Stay out there."

"But…"

"Just do it!" Placing one foot on the bottom step, he began to make his way slowly upstairs, shining the torch as he went. He checked the bathroom and then the main bedroom. All appeared to be in order. Finally, he made his way down to the end of the corridor to Danny's room. As he reached it, the smell of something rotting hit him and caused his stomach to turn over. "Bloody whisky…" he cursed, wishing he hadn't had those drinks on the flight. Pressing one hand to his mouth, he pushed the door open and stepped inside, the smell almost overpowering him.

At first, even with the help of the torch, he couldn't see anything but as he made his way over to the window, he felt his feet step into something slippery. Casting the light down, he saw that there was a dark pool of what looked suspiciously like blood soaked into the carpet and trail leading from it across the room to Danny's bed. Swallowing hard, he moved the torch along and up onto the bed where the source of the smell became all too obvious.

"Jesus…" he breathed, stepping forward to get a better look.

It was a dog. A very dead dog. A very dead dog with its innards spread all across the Superman bedspread.

Gene made to vomit but, just before he did, he caught sight of a piece of paper sticking out of the dog's cavernous mouth. Shakily, he stepped forward and grasped hold of it. It came away easily, a string of blood following it. Opening it, he shone the torch down to read the words.

NEXT TIME, IT'LL BE THE BOY

"Christ…" he turned away and threw up on the floor, more out of the implication of the note than of the sight in front of him.

"Gene?" Alex's voice floated up the stairs. "Gene, what is it?"

"Don't come up!" he shouted back, spitting and then wiping his mouth. Casting a final look at the horrific sight, he hurried out of the room and back to the top of the stairs. Alex was standing halfway up, still holding Danny in her arms. He was awake now and rubbing his eyes.

"What is it?" she asked. "Is there someone up there?"

"No," Gene replied. "No-one."

"Then what…?"

"Call the station," he ordered her. "Call the station and then get my son the 'ell out of this 'ouse."

**Somewhere in England – July 1982**

Sam waited. It felt like forever and he was starting to get pins and needles in his bottom, but he still waited. The phone call he had received in the phone box moments after speaking to Annie had instructed him to wait, so he would. He had tried listening to the radio, but it had begun to irritate him, so he had switched it off. He had tried standing outside the car to get some fresh air, but the air had been too cool, even for July, and so he had found himself back in the car, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, trying to think about happier times.

He thought about David and Michael, his beautiful children and Annie…sweet, patient Annie who, when he had told about the undercover operation, had merely listened until he had finished telling her the details and then told him that, although she didn't like it, she would support him whatever he decided to do.

The hardest part had been keeping it a secret from Gene and the others. Pretending as though nothing was happening. Drinking at the Railway Arms night after night, not being able to say one word. The jewellery heist had been the best cover he could have hoped for, and had come so completely out of the blue that he could almost have imagined that it had been planned. Having lived for so long now in a constant state of anxiety and paranoia, he had begun to think that perhaps it had been. Driving his car into the river, he had gotten out as quickly and inconspicuously as possible. No-one had seen him. To the rest of the world, he was either still inside the car or being swept away by the current. Then he had fled the scene and started on his new, albeit temporary, life.

It had been strange, almost surreal, watching the news reports of the accident, about the river being dredged and there being no sign of him. It had been especially disconcerting reading about his own death, the tributes that were made to him. Then there had been the funeral, a day that he knew Annie had found so difficult and yet had coped with so well. She had told him, when he had spoken to her the day afterwards that she had wanted to get to her feet and shout at the assembled group of mourners that her husband wasn't dead, that he was merely doing a job and that he would be back. She told him about the look on Gene's face, as though he had lost a son, a brother. "Almost as bad as when 'e lost Meg," she had said.

Dealing with the kids had been a different matter. Sent away to stay with their grandparents when the news had broke, they had been shielded from what had happened and had been told that their father wasn't dead, but that they had to pretend he was. It was like a game, a horrible game, yet one they seemed to be playing well. Annie said people merely sympathised and told her to seek help for them to come to terms with what had happened.

"'ow is this going to affect them?" Annie had asked him once during one of her weaker moments. "This could screw them up for life!"

He had had no answer for that, for he knew that she was right.

Headlights swept over the car, bringing him back to reality. The other vehicle stopped a few feet away from him and flashed its lights twice. That was the signal. Switching off his own engine, Sam opened the door and stepped outside. There was no movement from the occupants of the other car, so he made his way slowly over, shielding his eyes against the glare of the full beam. When he reached the driver's side, the window was lowered.

"Have you got it?" the driver asked.

"Yes, it's here," Sam handed him the piece of paper. He watched as the other man read it and then slipped it into his pocket. "I don't see what the relevance of it is," he said carefully.

The man looked back at him. "You don't need to see the relevance," came the response.

"But…why does Mr Dempster need to know where this kid goes to school?"

"Like I said, you don't need to know that," the man passed him an envelope. "Mr Dempster is very grateful for your continuing assistance, Mr Morgan. He told me to tell you that he thought you'd actually make a very good policeman." The man smiled, willing Sam to share in the joke.

"I don't know about that," Sam replied.

"We'll be in touch," the man rolled the window back up and the car sped away as quickly as it had arrived.

Sam watched as the tail lights disappeared into the darkness and then walked slowly back over to his own car. He hoped that when they got in touch, it was to tell him that his assistance was no longer required. Climbing in, he slammed the door and rested his head against the steering wheel, thinking once again about his own children.

Whoever this child was, he hoped that by providing the information requested, he wasn't helping place him in danger.


	3. Chapter 3

**London – July 1982**

"That is disgusting!" Ray said as he came down the stairs from Danny's room. "Who in their right mind kills a dog and then leaves it on a child's bed?" He stopped in front of Gene who was standing at the bottom smoking a cigarette. "You all right, Guv?"

"What?" Gene started, not even having heard what had been said, "eh…yeah I'm fine."

"You're shaking," Ray pointed out.

Gene looked down at the hand that was holding the cigarette and saw that it was trembling slightly. Quickly, he brought it to his lips, took a final drag and then stubbed it out in the nearest ashtray.

"Where's Drake?"

"She…uh…she took Danny to Luigi's," Gene replied. "Did you notice anything else up there?"

"Apart from the dog, no," Ray replied. "Forensics are still examining the room though." He gestured to the front door which stood ajar. "No sign of forced entry."

Gene followed his gaze, "No."

"Does anyone else 'ave a key?" Ray waited but Gene continued to stare at the door. "Guv? Guv!"

"What?!" Gene's head snapped back around to face his DS. "No, no-one else 'as keys except me and Alex." He moved away from the staircase and through into the living room where the debris from their holiday had been swiftly dumped. He stared down at them, at that ridiculous hat Alex had forced him to buy, and couldn't help thinking about how different it had all been only a few short hours ago.

"Been to all your neighbours, Guv," Chris said, coming into the room behind him. "No-one noticed anyone 'anging around and no-one 'eard anything."

"Probably a professional," Ray added as he joined them.

Gene rounded on them, "'ow many professional housebreakers do you know who leave dead dogs behind?"

"Well, I…"

"This is personal. Whoever it was left a direct threat against _my _son. Now I want to know who it is so I can catch the bastard! I won't 'ave anyone threaten my family!" He stepped towards them. "So get back to the station and pull out all the files on all the weirdos we know and see if there's anything matching this!"

"What about Dempster?" Ray asked.

"Dempster?" Gene echoed.

"Yeah, you know. You gave him a bit of an 'ard time when he was…"

"I know who 'e is, Ray, I'm not senile," Gene pursed his lips, "Dempster doesn't 'ave it in 'im."

"What about 'is old man?" Chris said. "Nosy Norman was saying yesterday that 'e wasn't too 'appy about what 'appened to 'is boy while 'e was in custody."

"Did 'e now?" Gene said, "Well I think we should be 'aving a little chat with our friend at the Daily Bugle then. Chris, bring 'im in."

"Don't you want to go straight to Dempster, Guv?" Ray asked.

An image of Frank Dempster flashed into Gene's mind. "No," he said, "if it 's 'im, this could get messy and I'm not 'aving my family put in any more danger than I 'ave to. Start with Norman."

"Yes Guv," Chris and Ray spoke in unison and then left the room together, leaving Gene to replay in his mind the last conversation he had had with Dempster. At the time, he had thought little of it, but only now did it seem as though the other man's threats were coming home to roost.

_"You should be afraid of me, Hunt. I've got a lot of clout in this city."_

_"I'm shaking in my snake skins. Now take your scumbag of a son and get the 'ell out of my nick."_

_"You got a boy of your own. You'd better keep an eye on 'im."_

****

As a rule Luigi was never too happy when officers of Fenchurch East demanded he open up his wine bar out of hours, but when Alex had woken him up and told him their predicament, he had been only too happy to let them into the sanctity of the restaurant. They had been sitting there for the past hour, Danny drawing pictures on napkins, his head lolling forward on occasion as sleep threatened to overtake him.

"You don't have to stay awake," she told him, finishing the dregs of her third coffee.

"I want to see Daddy when he gets here," Danny replied stoically. "When is he coming?"

"I don't know," she replied honestly, "soon, I hope." She thought back to the moment earlier when Gene had come down from Danny's room, the chalk white of his expression visible even in the darkness, and thought that she would never get the image out of her head as long as she lived.

"Why can't we go home?" Danny asked for the millionth time.

"Because we have to wait until Daddy comes back," she said, wishing that she had a better answer for him. It was impossible though, for how could she even begin to tell an eight year old that a disembowelled dog had been discovered on his bed.

"But…Daddy!" Danny leapt off of his chair and ran across the room to where Gene had suddenly appeared. Gene lifted him up into his arms and Danny wound his arms around his neck and hugged him. "Can we go home now?"

"No son, not yet," Gene replied, making his way over to where Alex was still sitting at the table. "We're going to 'ave to find somewhere else to stay tonight." He sat down in Danny's vacated seat and twisted him round so he could sit on his lap.

"But why?" Danny whined.

"Well…" Gene fought for the right words, "there's been a break-in and we need to look for clues as to who it might 'ave been, so we can't stay there just now."

"What sort of clues?" Danny asked, his brow furrowing.

"Well, like fingerprints," Gene said, "and…eh…"

"Footprints," Alex chimed in, "and anything else which might let us know who it was."

"Did they go into my room?"

"No!" Gene and Alex both exclaimed at once, causing Danny to jump slightly in his father's arms.

"No," Alex said, more calmly, "no, he didn't. But we just can't go into the house right now. Luigi said we could have the flat," she directed her comment towards Gene, "for as long as we need it."

"Good," Gene replied, "Well, I reckon it's time that this young man got some sleep, don't you?"

"I'm not tired," Danny said, even though his eyes drooped with every word.

"Course not," Gene stood up and hitched him up, "well we'll put you to bed and you don't 'ave to sleep if you don't want to." Alex followed as they made their way through the restaurant and up the back stairs to the flat. She opened the door with the key Luigi had given her and stepped inside. It hadn't changed in the few months since she had moved out and yet she felt as though so much of her life had changed. It was strange to be back. Gene carried Danny to the sofa, laid him down gently and pulled a blanket over him. Within seconds, he was fast asleep.

"What did forensics say?" Alex asked, as they moved into the bedroom.

"No sign of forced entry. They reckon the bastard 'ad a key."

"But how is that possible?"

"I don't know," Gene sank down on the edge of the bed and ran his hands through his hair. "They said there's no sign of fingerprints or footprints or any of that stuff. They took the note away. Apparently there's some bloke who can tell things out of 'andwriting or summat…" he trailed off.

Alex sat down beside him and reached over to take his hand. "Danny's all right," she reassured him. "He's here and he's safe."

"Yeah, but for 'ow long?" he met her gaze. "This is personal, Alex. Like I told Chris and Ray, this is a personal attack against me and my son." He looked away again. "They think it might be Dempster."

"Junior or Senior?"

"Senior. I never gave much thought about what 'e said that night when 'e took Joe 'ome but now it looks as though 'e's carried through 'is threat. I've put Danny in danger, Alex, and for what? To be the same old Gene Hunt. To shout and bawl and try and make the scum of this city afraid of me. What's it done except risk my son's life."

"You don't know that it's Dempster," she said, "it could be anyone. This _could _be random."

"You don't believe that any more than I do," Gene said. "I 'ave to get 'im away from 'ere before anything else 'appens. You an' all."

"I can't leave," Alex protested.

"Well I can't send 'im on 'is own, can I?"

"Look, I think that we're better off staying together for now. Safety in numbers."

"No."

"Gene…"

"I want my son out of London. Somewhere Dempster and 'is mob won't be able to find 'im."

"Well, where?"

Gene nodded, "I might 'ave a place in mind."

****

**Norwich – July 1982**

"I don't understand," Annie said, keeping her voice low in case she woke the children. It was the early hours of the morning and the incessant ringing of the phone had woken her from a troubled sleep. The last person she had expected to hear from was her husband. It wasn't one of their allotted times and the tremor in his voice had only worried her more. "Why did they want that information?"

"I don't know," Sam said, the crackle of the line making it difficult to hear him. "They didn't say."

"And you just gave it to them without questioning it? Information about an innocent child?"

"Annie, I didn't have a choice."

"Where did you even get it?"

"I can't tell you," he replied. "I wish I could, but I can't."

"This is getting dangerous, Sam," she said, her voice shaking. "And you don't know where all this is leading. You could be getting involved in something that you can't get out of."

"Don't you think I know that?!" he snapped. "I am just trying to keep my head above water, Annie. Keats said…"

"I don't give a damn what _Keats_ said!" Annie snapped back, her temper breaking at the thought of that man. "I want you home, Sam. I want you home with me and our children now before this gets out of hand! It's been nearly two years and I can't take much more! None of us can!" There was a long pause before he spoke again, so long in fact, that Annie wasn't sure he was still on the line. "Sam?"

"I'm still here," he said quietly. "I know it's hard, and I know I've asked a lot of all of you, but it'll be over soon."

She shook her head, though she knew he couldn't see it. "You say that every time you call and yet it never seems to be over."

"No," he agreed. "It never does." He let out a long shaky breath. "I should go. Just in case…"

"Ok."

"Ok."

"Sam, I…" the line buzzed, indicating that he had hung up. "I love you."

**London – July 1982**

"I really don't think this is a very good idea," Alex said, as she made breakfast in the flat the following morning. It wasn't the first time she had said it, but Gene was showing no signs of being dissuaded from the idea he had come up with the previous night and she was starting to worry.

"Oh give it a bloody rest woman!" Gene declared from the bathroom where he was in the process of shaving. "I've made up my mind and that's that."

"And I don't even get to have an opinion?"

"I never said that."

"Well then…"

"But your opinion is wrong and therefore I don't 'ave to listen to it!" He stuck his head out the door, still half covered in shaving foam. "Make sure my bacon's nice and crispy now."

Alex felt more like throwing it at him, but she tried to stay focused on the task in hand. "Don't you think she has enough to handle with her own kids?"

"Danny's well behaved. It's not as if 'e's going to cause any great trouble."

"Gene…" she left the frying pan on the stove and moved over to stand in the doorway. "I'm not worried about Danny's behaviour but…he's only just got settled with us and now you're planning to uproot him again."

"It's for 'is own good, Alex, I told you that."

"I'm not saying you don't have good intentions, but I think it's important that Danny be around people he knows and trusts."

"Annie Tyler is one of the most trustworthy people I know!" Gene said, wiping his face and turning to face her. "And all right, she's got two kids. One more isn't going to make much of a difference." He moved past her into the kitchen and eyed the bacon critically.

"You can't force her to take Danny," Alex persisted. "I mean, I know she's very sweet natured and…"

"She is the widow of perhaps the best friend I ever 'ad," Gene interrupted her. "I would do anything for 'er and I know she would do anything for me. Now, despite what you might think about whether or not Danny should be going anywhere, what is your problem with 'er?"

Alex paused, knowing that she couldn't say what she really wanted to. Knowing that she had made a promise to Sam that night in the hospital that she wouldn't tell Gene that he was still alive. "I don't have a problem with her…" she started slowly.

"Good! I'll give 'er a call when I get into the station." He strode into the living room where Danny was watching cartoons. "Come on you, get up and get into that bathroom." Danny dragged himself to his feet, clearly unwilling to tear himself away from the television. "Did you not 'ear me?" With a dramatic sigh, Danny flounced off in the direction of the bathroom.

"He's supposed to be going back to school in two weeks," Alex pointed out in a last ditch attempt to dissuade Gene from his plan.

"Hopefully this will all be over in two weeks," Gene replied, coming up behind and slipping his arms around her. "I love the fact that you care so much Alex," he said, kissing her neck, "but believe me this is the best thing to do right now."

"If you say so," she replied weakly.

"I do say so," he declared, "now, where's my ruddy breakfast?"


	4. Chapter 4

**Sorry for the delay guys - thanks for all your reviews. Keep them coming!!**

**London – July 1982**

"Nosy Norman's kicking up a stink, Guv," Chris said when Gene arrived in CID. "He weren't too 'appy when we brought 'im in last night and 'e's even more unhappy now. Keeps banging on about freedom of the press and 'ow we're perpetrating an unjust and uncivilised crime against his liberty."

"Did you write that down? I couldn't care less 'ow 'e feels about the situation," Gene replied, striding into his office. "I'm more interested in what 'e can tell us about Dempster."

"I don't think 'e's going to tell us anything," Chris replied, following him. "You know what them journos are like. Reckon's 'e doesn't 'ave to give up 'is sources."

"Well, we'll see about that." Gene opened his desk drawer, took out a bottle of whisky and poured himself a generous measure. Downing it in one, he met Chris' slightly disapproving gaze. "What?"

"Isn't it a big early, Guv?"

"When _you've_ come 'ome from _your _'olidays to find a dead dog on _your _son's bed Christopher, then you can preach to me about my drinking but until then just get on with your job, understand?"

"Yes Guv," Chris turned and made to leave the office, but then turned back. "Guv?"

"What?"

"There's something else that Nosy Norman said to me and Ray the other day..."

"Was it about Dempster?" Gene asked impatiently.

"No..."

"Then I'm not interested."

"But..."

"Chris, I 'ave got more important things on my mind than listening to what that old woman 'as to say on love, life and the universe. I'm trying to make sure that my son is safe, do you get that?"

Chris backed out of the office. "Yes Guv."

"Good!" Gene waited until he had gone, then got up from his seat and slammed the door closed for emphasis. He didn't want to be disturbed making the phone call. He couldn't let any of them see how concerned he was about what was happening. Picking up the phone he punched in the familiar number and waited while it rang out. He thought for a moment that she wasn't going to answer and then he heard her voice.

"Hello?"

"Annie."

"Guv?" He still smiled every time she called him that, despite the fact that they hadn't worked together in years. "I didn't expect..." she sounded slightly flustered. "'It's good to hear from you."

"And you, love," he replied, "'ow are you?"

"Oh, you know. Same as always. Trying to keep these two under control is a full time job." She laughed, but he was sure he could hear the familiar resentment in her voice.

When she had fallen pregnant with David, Superintendent Frank Rathbone had been delighted at the prospect of getting another plonk out of CID. He had tried the same tactic with Meg when she had become pregnant and the only reason he had succeeded was because of her death. Annie had been no pushover though and, fully supported by Sam, she had taken her maternity leave and then come back to work a few months later. When she had Michael though, it had been a different story. A difficult birth and an emergency caesarean section had meant her recovery hadn't been quite as swift and, with another child already to look after, she had gracefully admitted defeat and given up. Gene was sure that she would have gone far, that she could have been a DI one day like Alex.

"'ow are my godsons?" he asked, feeling slightly guilty that he hadn't taken more of an interest over the last few months. It had been difficult though, what with caring full time for Danny and exploring his new relationship with Alex. He remembered how touched he had been when Sam and Annie had asked him to be godfather not just once, but twice. At the time, it had seemed an odd choice, given his own non-existent relationship with his own child. But they had both wanted him to do it and he had done his best to live up to their expectations. It wasn't as hard with someone else's child as it was with your own.

"Both as cheeky as ever," Annie said. "Wanting to know when you're coming to visit. They're desperate to meet Danny."

"Well actually..." Gene said, "that was the reason I called you, love."

"Oh?"

"Yeah," he fought for the words to explain it. "There's been a bit of trouble 'ere and...well...I need somewhere safe for Danny."

"What's 'appened?" Annie asked, her voice full of concern. "Is 'e all right?"

"Someone...someone's made a threat against 'im," Gene explained, feeling emotion rise in his throat even as he spoke about it. "I don't think that 'e's safe in London and I thought..." he stopped when she didn't say anything. "If it's not convenient love, I understand..."

"No, no," Annie replied quickly, "it's not that, it's just..."

"Three kids on your own would be a tall order, I know. But you've no idea 'ow grateful I'd be."

"You're really worried aren't you?" Annie said softly.

"Terrified."

"Then it's fine," she said. "I'd love to 'ave 'im for a while."

"Thanks love," Gene said, relief flooding him. "Alex can bring 'im down and drop 'im off with you. Is this afternoon ok?"

"That's fine. So I'll finally get to meet the famous Alex," Annie teased gently. "Wonder if she'll look 'ow I imagine?"

"Oh yeah?" Gene replied gruffly, "'what do you imagine?"

"I'll meet 'er first and then maybe I'll tell you," Annie laughed.

Gene chuckled, "I really do appreciate this, love. I know that...erm...well that..."

"I know," she finished for him. "I know."

Alex came into his office just as he put the phone down. Over her shoulder, he could see Danny sitting with Shaz. "How did you get on?" she asked, sitting down opposite him.

"Annie said she'll take 'im."

"Really?"

Gene looked at her curiously, "Yes really. Come on Bolls, you know it makes sense."

"Well you certainly seem to think it does."

"Exactly and it's my opinion that counts as I am so fond of telling you!" He got to his feet. "i told Annie you'd take 'im down there this afternoon."

"Today?" Alex raised her eyebrows.

"Is there a problem with that?"

"Well...no but..."

"But what?"

"What about the investigation? The interviews? Tracking down Dempster?"

"It's all being taken care of," Gene replied. "Me and Ray are going to interview Nosy Norman and see where 'e gets 'is info from and we'll take it from there."

"He won't tell you anything."

"That's as maybe, but it's a start." He paused and looked at her. "I want you to take Danny to Annie's. It won't take you long. You can borrow the Quattro long as you're careful with it."

"I think I should be here," Alex persisted.

"And I think you should do what I tell you," Gene replied, his tone growing harsher. "Or is making sure my son is safe not a priority for you?"

"Of course it is, but..."

"Well then I don't see the problem."

"...but I'm not his mother and..."

"No, Alex you're not 'is bloody mother! But you're the closest damn thing 'e's got seeing as she's dead!" He could see, through the glass of his office, the faces of his team swivelled towards him, clearly having heard the exchange. Danny seemed oblivious, intently colouring something on a piece of paper at Shaz's desk. "I'm sorry," he said, shuffling some papers that were lying on his desk. "I thought it was what you wanted. To be a part of our lives. To be a part of 'is life..."

"It _is,_" Alex replied, stung by the criticism.

"Then do it," he said angrily. "Just bloody do it."

Alex turned and opened the office door, aware that everyone was watching her. Embarrassingly, she felt tears spring into her eyes. Angrily, she willed them away. Gene Hunt would not make her cry! Regardless of how much she loved him, she would not let him make her cry! She turned to where Danny was still drawing. "Hey," she said, crouching down in front of him. "You and I are going on an adventure!"

He looked at her suspiciously. "What kind of adventure?"

"Well I'm taking you to stay with your Auntie Annie for a few days. She's got two boys about your age and you'll get to see a new place."

"Where?"

"Norwich." She ignored the sound of Ray snorting in the background. "It'll be fun!"

"Is it because of the robber?" Danny asked. "Is that why we can't go home?"

"Exactly," Alex said. "Daddy and I need to be here to try and catch the robber so we need you to go somewhere safe while we do it. What do you think?" She willed him to be accepting about it, not sure if she could bear another metaphorical slap in the face from a Hunt.

Danny nodded solemnly, "Ok. Can I take my dinosaur?"

"You can take whatever you like," Alex straightened up. "Come on, we need to go and pick up your things and then get going." She held out her hand and Danny reached out to take it, hopping off the seat as he did so. "You'd better say goodbye to Daddy first though." She knocked perfunctorily on the door and then opened it. Gene was leaning against the filing cabinet finishing another drink. "I'm going to take him home to get some things and then straight on to Norwich," she informed him coolly.

Gene nodded and put his glass down. "All right son?" he crouched down in front of Danny. "You promise to be good for Alex?" Danny nodded. "And extra-specially good for your Auntie Annie?" He nodded again. "Glad to 'ear it. Come 'ere." He pulled Danny into his arms and hugged him, breathing in his scent. He would never have thought it possible to love a child as much as he loved his son and he knew that the next few days and weeks apart were going to be torture. Yet he knew he was doing the right thing. "Right then," he pulled back and ruffled Danny's hair. "I'll phone you later on and just make sure you're settling in ok and I'll see you in a few days." He straightened up and coughed to cover his emotion.

"Let's go," Alex said and Danny walked out of the office in front of her.

"Thank you," Gene said, as she turned to follow him.

She turned back, determined to be angry, determined to let him see that what he had said had both hurt and infuriated him. But when she saw the look on his face, she felt herself crumble. "It's going to be all right," she said. He nodded and she turned and followed his son out of CID.

**Norwich – 1982**

For hours after she put the phone down, Annie worried that she had done the wrong thing. It wasn't that she didn't want to help Gene or Danny, but with everything else she had to worry about, she was concerned that she wouldn't be able to perform the function Gene was expecting her to. She was pleased and touched that he considered her up to the job, to protect his most precious possession, but with all the uncertainty surrounding Sam.

Sam. She only hoped that he wouldn't call or suddenly appear while Danny was with them. It would be so easy for it to get back to Gene and then everything would have been for nothing. She knew in her heart that she couldn't jeopardise her own husband and family for whatever problems Gene was having.

"We're 'aving a visitor," she told the boys over lunch.

"Who?" David asked, his mouth full of cake.

"Don't talk with your mouth full," she warned him automatically. "Uncle Gene's son, Danny. 'e's coming to stay with us for a while."

"Why?" David asked again.

"What did I just tell you?" she raised her eyebrows at him and he swallowed hard. "It's because 'e really wants to meet you."

"''ow old is 'e?" Michael chipped in.

"Eight."

"Same age as me!" David announced gleefully.

"Exactly," Annie said, "so you'll 'ave lots in common, won't you?"

"Where's 'e going to sleep?" Michael asked.

"In the spare room, don't worry. I'm not going to ask either of you to give up your beds."

"Good," David said, as the phone suddenly rang out. "Can I get it?"

"No!" Annie replied sharply as she always did. Leaving the table, she made her way into the hallway and lifted the receiver. "Hello?"

"It's me. I 'aven't got much time. I need you to do something for me."

"Sam...."

"Please Annie, it's really important. I need you to get in touch with DI Alex Drake at Fenchurch. I need you to give 'er this number and 'ave 'er call me as soon as possible."

"I don't understand..."

"You don't 'ave to understand," Sam said, "just write this down." He rhymed off some numbers and Annie scribbled them on the back of an envelope. "Make sure you tell 'er that it's important. And make sure she keeps it from Gene."

"Sam, about Gene..."

"I can only stay on another minute or so love."

"He called me and asked me to look after Danny for a few days. 'e said there 'ad been some trouble and 'e needed a safe place for 'im. Alex is bringing 'im down today." There was silence at the other end of the phone. "Sam? Sam, did you 'ear what I said?"

She heard her husband take a ragged breath. "Oh no." Then the line went dead.

"Sam? Sam!" The only sound in her ear was the dial tone. Slowly, she replaced the receiver and then looked down at the piece of paper in her hand. Whatever was going on in Sam's world, it was making less and less sense to his wife.

**London – July 1982**

"Mr Hunt, this is a flagrant breach of my civil liberties you know." Norman said lighting yet another cigarette. "There must be some kind of law against you keeping me here against my will." He waved his arm dismissively around the interview room and then regarded Gene over his glasses. "What on earth do you want from me?"

"I want to know 'ow you knew that Frank Dempster was coming after me," Gene said quietly.

"I don't recall saying anything of the sort," Norman protested.

"Yes you did!" Ray interjected. "You told me and Chr...DC Skelton...that Frank Dempster wanted to kick seven shades of shit out of the...DCI Hunt.

"I was merely quoting what I heard," Norman replied, taking a long drag and blowing smoke across the table. "I can hardly be held responsible for what my sources tell me now, can I?"

"I want to know who told you," Gene said.

"Like I told you before, Mr Hunt, journalist's sources enjoy a certain level of anonymity. Otherwise, no-one would ever tell us anything!" He flashed Gene his yellow smile. "I'm sure you have the same set up with your own sources."

Gene opened the file that was sitting in front of him and lifted out one of the photographs that had been taken of the dog on Danny's bed. The sight of it made him want to gag, so he placed it in front of Norman without looking at it.

"Good gracious," Norman said, studying it, "what on earth...?"

"That was found on my son's bed," Gene informed him.

"No..." Norman looked up at him. "You don't think...Dempster?" Gene nodded. "Well, well, well...this was not what I had imagined."

"What _had _you imagined?"

"Something a bit more...well...violent."

"You think leaving a disembowelled dog on a child's bed isn't violent?" Ray asked incredulously.

"What I meant is, violence against _you_," Norman pointed at Gene, "Frank Dempster is a man who speaks with his fists. I'm not sure that he...I mean this is...this is far more..." He stroked his chin. "Sinister."

Gene leaned forward, amazed that he was keeping his temper so well in check. "Who are your sources?"

Norman paused, all humour having vanished from his face, "I wish I could tell you, I really do..."

"Then tell me."

"But I can't, you see, it's quite impossible."

Gene thumped the table. "Tell me!"

"I can't, honestly I can't!" Norman sat back in his seat, his expression genuinely fearful. "Some of them are powerfully connected and if this is the work of someone other than Dempster..."

"Who?"

Norman shook his head, "I don't know." Then a light seemed to dawn. "But I could find out."

Gene frowned. "'ow do you mean?"

"Let me do a little digging and see what I can find out. Perhaps people might be talking on the streets. You don't do that..." he pointed to the photo, "and not brag a little, do you? I could be your Deep Throat...so to speak."

"'e doesn't know anything Guv," Ray said, "this is a waste of time."

Gene kept his gaze on Norman. "If you 'eard anything..."

"You'd be the first to know," Norman reassured him.

"We're talking about my son 'ere Norman." His tone was still low, yet he could see the other man was unnerved.

"I understand," Norman nodded. "I have a son myself Mr Hunt."

"You?" Ray looked at him contemptuously. "You're a poofter! 'ow can _you _'ave a son?"

Norman looked at him, "Amazing. You sound just like him." He turned back to Gene. "I promise you I'll do what I can." He paused. "We have an understanding then?"

Gene nodded, "Ray, release 'im."

"You can't be serious, Guv," Ray moaned. "'e's spinning you a line' ere."

"I reckon that's for me to decide, don't you?" He pushed his chair back and got up from the table.

"Mr Hunt?" He turned back to Norman. "I hope that your son will be all right."

"'e better be," Gene said, "Otherwise understanding or no understanding, I will track you down and kick seven shades of shit out of _you!_"


End file.
